


Those Final Two Minutes

by lostlilsnail



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animal Abuse, But at least there's some gay stuff right?, Character Death, F/F, Gun Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Regina has to deal with a lot of trauma and self loathing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-04-11 10:59:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19108297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlilsnail/pseuds/lostlilsnail
Summary: Regina Mills is a captive in her own bathroom, held hostage by two idiot boys. She’s tethered and angry and there’s a half-dead cop at her feet. Things aren’t going well.A lightly edited repost of an old AU from FF.net





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags before reading! (Also feel free to let me know if there are any others I should add to make a safer space for all)  
> As always, being a complete AU this fic comes with all the OOCness that implies. This gets VERY HOLLYWOOD so prepare to suspend your disbelief to get any sort of enjoyment out of it haha. 
> 
> It's cheesy and predictable yet somehow still unbelievable haha...but hopefully also a little sweet?

She'd had the television on, and that's probably why everything had played out the way it did.

That goddamn television blaring out that goddamn sitcom she doesn't even laugh at just so she could have half an hour of canned, pre-recorded life in this goddamn house of the dead.

That's what killed her.

Or, well, _will_ kill her. She's not quite dead yet. Though it's coming, Regina's sure. Any minute. Whenever her idiot captors realize they've dug themselves into a hole they can't possibly scale out of with their lives intact. That's when they'll panic and start shooting.

Regina knows, young as they are, they're capable of actually pulling the trigger. She has the evidence slumped heavy and unconscious beside her. A wheezing, heaving lump on the floor, each strained breath a watery gurgle.

E. Swan.

When she'd squinted, that's what Regina had managed to make out embroidered in the fallen officer's uniform through the mess. A woman. Long and lean, bloodied and broken. Regina doesn't know what she's been through, how she'd gotten there. All she knows is the battered expanse of her pale skin. The way her chest jerks, harsh and shallow. How her right hand curls at an unnatural angle.

The deep, ugly gash that rips through her pants and runs down her left shin, a good portion of the leg itself twisted and out of place. An image so unsettling Regina can't bring herself to look directly at it. She can't stomach the sight.

How many minutes until this stranger gives out beside her? Until she's sharing a room with a corpse?

How long after that until Regina joins her?

She doesn't even like that sitcom. At all. And still, she'd been so desperate for something, anything, that she'd had it on loud enough to mask the sound of the back door being jimmied open at the other end of the house. It had her distracted enough that she hadn't known there was anyone inside her home until she'd woken up in a daze, vision blurry, head throbbing, with two young men standing over her.

They'd dragged her into the bathroom and bolted her in. Opened the door just long enough to dump the officer beside her minutes later. And now, she waits.

Waits to live or to die or for whatever comes next.

"Hey, lady," the man poking his head through the bathroom door is earnest, youthful features twisted in confusion, "there are bowls in your kitchen. You gotta dog?" There's something akin to hope lacing the edge of his words. He's the younger of the two by what she can figure of her limited interactions with the men, and it shows.

Regina opens her mouth, but nothing emerges. She clears her throat, tries again. "Cat," she manages this time. Spits the word out with as much venom as she dares.

Instantly, his face falls. "Damn," he mutters, and then he's gone. The door shut.

Regina grits her teeth and tugs at her hair in frustration. Morons. She's being held captive by morons.

Fuck that.

She pushes herself to her knees and inches toward the cabinet under the sink, on the hunt for something, anything, that could be used as a weapon. It's not an easy task. They have her bound in what she can only assume are the fallen officer's handcuffs. Left wrist cuffed, the other end clasped around the lower of her two towel racks drilled into the wall. Her wrist burns where it strains against the unyielding metal as she moves, but she pushes past the discomfort and blindly gropes in what little she can reach of the cupboard.

There's a can of Fabreeze that might buy her a few seconds if she can manage a direct shot to the eyes. And with enough force her old nail scissors could probably puncture the throat. Maybe. Nothing else within her limited reach is of use in regards to self defense, and the officer has clearly already been stripped of anything helpful.

Not that it matters if she's still chained to the fucking wall.

Regina slumps against it and drops her head back with a dull _thud_. What does she do? Wait?

For what?

Rescue?

Unlikely.

Murder?

Regina already knows which of the boys clustered in the back of her classes will make light of it when her death is announced. Will jab their friends with the sharp points of their elbows and scoff, "Bitch deserved it."

And she knows which of the quiet ones who ace every comprehension pop quiz will be appalled by that laughter. Can imagine the select few who will be brave enough to tell them off. Who will say, "She was still a person," with horrified awe because even though they'd never liked her personally, they'd admired her passion for the literature they too loved.

They'd get over it though. They all would.

They would grow up and start careers and raise families and maybe at their ten year reunion they'd consume enough alcohol for someone to slur, "Remember that bitch Mills?" And the rest would mumble, "Yeah, crazy what happened to her," before moving on to the next topic of conversation.

Mary Margaret would cry, though she'd be the only one. The thought annoys Regina more than it comforts her. She'd send a card around the English department to be signed for the splintered remnants of Regina's family. Everyone would scrawl out messy initials to fulfill their obligations, then they might drive by the wake, shake the necessary hands, and then it would be over.

Her legacy complete.

Beside her, Swan shifts, her steady wheezing disrupted by the movement as she instead hisses sharply in pain. Regina reaches out a hand on instinct, murmurs softly as she trails her fingers down the officer's good arm. The tips of her nails rake a featherlight path across soiled skin in what she hopes is a soothing gesture.

It's not like she's ever been known for her soft touch.

Not for a long time, anyways.

Swan twitches beneath her fingers, shudders, her breathing more labored.

"Hush," Regina murmurs.

Slowly, the woman relaxes.

Regina studies her. The hard, sharp features tight and pinched with pain. Tangled, matted hair. Teeth clamped, jaw like a vice.

The woman looks so harsh. So unforgiving. Just what sort of legacy would she leave?

Something a fair bit more substantial than Regina's, no doubt.

"Fuck."

Regina's head snaps up at the muffled curse from the other side of the door. The men are talking, but it's impossible to make out their hushed, angry whispers. And maybe that's the TV softly running she hears.

Whatever has them spooked, hopefully it doesn't get their trigger fingers itching.

Swan splutters and coughs and Regina recoils on instinct. She's never been particularly squeamish, but then, she's never seen anything like this outside of a movie screen. With a hard swallow, she pushes past her rising nausea and resumes the slow, steady contact.

"I don't even know why they're here." She whispers so the cold tile around them won't amplify the sound. The less attention she gains from their captors the better. "I guess you do though, huh?" She refuses to let her eyes drop to the twisted leg. Unnatural.

She shudders. "I'm sorry I don't know how to-" Regina falters.

Nothing's bleeding profusely, at least not outwardly. The leg wound itself is...juicy. But the blood surrounding it is dark and dry. It'd been that way since their 'meeting'.

"I don't know how to help you."

Swan doesn't respond. She just wheezes on, eyes clamped shut, every shuddering breath a clear, tremendous effort.

"Thanks for not holding it against me." Regina manages a weak chuckle at herself. She shifts, knees drawn up to her chest, unbound arm wrapped about her legs, facing Swan. "Just try not to die on me, okay? You're the professional here. I don't think I can be of much use unless they're looking for tutoring."

The wheezing carries on.

It's soothing, almost.

In an uncomfortable, maddening, sort of way.

 


	2. Chapter 2

They come quietly. More quietly than he'd imagined from what he'd seen on TV over the years. Even after all the jobs he's done, Felix has never actually had a personal run-in with the cops before. They've fucked up plenty, sure, but never quite like this.

Even if they do get out of it somehow, slither their way past the barrier of cops now surrounding their little hideaway, god knows there'll be hell to pay back Home.

Peter will take the worst of it to protect him. Always has.

With a groan, Felix settles himself on the floor, back against the couch.

"How's that head?" Peter's across the room, slumped similarly against the kitchen cabinets. He'd made stern rules as soon as they'd entered the place. Crouch low. Bottom floor. No windows.

It's unlikely the police will take a shot since there's two of them, Peter had said, but you never can tell with the pigs. They're not the brightest.

"S'okay," Felix murmurs. He rubs just to the right of the ugly gash etched into his forehead. "Stings," he hisses.

"Don't agitate it."

Felix huffs and stops, but mostly just because his vision blurs. "I'm exhausted."

"Don't fall asleep. It could be a concussion. You hit the dashboard hard."

Outside, the muffled sounds of their visitors rises.

"I think we fucked up, Pete," Felix whimpers. "I think we fucked up real bad."

Above Peter's head, the phone on the counter lets out a shrill ring. The man chuckles and strains to reach for it.

"Well, that didn't take long."

 

-

 

"That was definitely the phone," Regina whispers. For a second she forgets herself.

It's help. This is going to be worked out. Everyone is going to make it out alive.

Then she remembers the normal trajectory of her life. She lets out a strangled laugh laced with a sob.

Who is she kidding? It's her mother calling to berate her for being stupid enough to let herself get taken hostage in the first place. Because it _is_ Regina's fault, surely.

It's always Regina's fault.

She waits for a change. For one of the men to barge in and make demands or start firing. Nothing happens.

Nothing happens for a long time.

Swan coughs. A garbled, watery sound. Regina doesn't know much about medical care, but she's fairly certain breathing isn't supposed to be watery.

"Hey," she hisses as the officer arches off the floor at the sheer force of her hacking. "Hey, no. No. Don't die. Don't you dare-"

Deep, throaty sounds, and then Swan lets her head fall to the side--the side facing away from Regina _thank god--_ and spits. Thick phlegm, tinged a light, speckled red. Regina draws back in disgust, but quickly recovers because the act seemed pretty deliberate.

"Are you-" she dares, but Swan's eyes are still closed and her breathing returns to slow, shaky wheezes. Not conscious. "What am I supposed to do?"

_Something_ , surely. But with one arm bound and limited reach, Regina can't even pretend to be of use.

"I need you to tell me."

Swan lays stretched across her bathroom floor, completely unresponsive. All Regina can manage is to drag the towel off the rack above her and fold it neatly on the ground. She pushes it towards the officer, then gently scoops up the woman's head to cradle it in her palm. It's an awkward effort, but in the end she manages to get Swan off the cold tile and comfortably on the makeshift pillow.

It's not much, but it eases the guilt a little.

At the very least Swan's condition isn't her fault. The men outside clearly stumbled into her home out of desperation. Regina was never part of their grand design, whatever that may have been. This is all just a horrible coincidence from where she's sitting. They had needed a place to hide, and her home had been the most convenient.

"You must be just as unlucky as I am," Regina murmurs, "ending up here. My neighbor's training to be a paramedic."

Huh. Maybe Ashley will be the one to wheel their bodies away when all is said and done.

That won't be so bad. They're not friends, not exactly, but sometimes Ashley is coming in, red eyed and yawning from a night shift, and Regina's on her way to the high school, and they nod at one another from their respective driveways before going their separate ways. It's nice, in a pathetic sort of way.

"You would have been all set just a few dozen feet to the left."

Swan doesn't laugh. Neither does Regina.

"Don't worry, I'm not much for conversation either. Just keep breathing, okay? I just- I don't want-" she falters, huffs. "You know."

Knees to her chest, Regina runs her free hand through her hair and wonders why she hasn't cried yet.

 

-

 

Felix watches his older brother effortlessly run the conversation in circles. The cops are trying their damnedest to negotiate, but they aren't as desperate as the suits think. No, the Boss will contact them on Pete's cell with the perfect plan to get them out of here, scot-free.

"Peter-" the voice over the phone is muted and crackles slightly. Pete's put the call on speaker for Felix's benefit. "Is that what you prefer to be called? Peter?"

"People usually call me Big Daddy." Pete winks at his little brother.

He's always liked to make Felix laugh at the very worst of times, ever since they were kids.

"Are both you and your brother Felix okay? Does anyone need medical attention?"

Pete barks out a bitter laugh, though his eyes dart to the jagged gash decorating Felix's brow. "Because you care so much."

"That was a bad crash, Peter," the voice - Doctor Archie Hopper, it had earlier identified itself as - says. "I just want to make sure nobody needs any help. That's the most important thing right now."

"You only care about your cop."

"I care about every single person in that house, Peter. We all do. We want to make sure everyone gets through this safely."

Pete rolls his eyes and presses his palm against the receiver. "Fuck these guys, huh?"

Felix nods his agreement. "So what do we do?"

"Boss'll call," the other man insists. No hesitation. No doubt.

"Right." Felix manages a tired grin. "Boss'll call."

 

-

 

Swan seems completely out of it, but sometimes she shudders, and gentle fingers on the bruised skin of her good arm coupled with quiet murmurs seems to make it stop. So Regina takes quite devotedly to soothing strokes and whispered stories.

They're admittedly not a bad distraction for herself either.

"-and I suppose she means well, but there's a complete lack of boundaries. Besides, it's not genuine. I believe she _believes_ it is, but it's not as though we have anything in common. It's pity. She knows more than she should and she pities me. And they all act as though I'm some evil witch for not just laying back and accepting that pity."

Swan doesn't - is incapable of - agreeing, but Regina likes to think that the furrow of her brow and the hard line of her mouth means that if she were fully conscious, she would. Precious Mary Margaret has too many supporters as it is. She gets Swan.

The woman winces and shifts, eyes screwed up tight.

"Relax," Regina soothes, softer than she's been in- god, three years? Is that how long it's been? Longer, even. Longer since she'd run her fingers through little Roland's hair and chased his nightmares away.

All for the best, it seems, that he's not here now. Because in a different life he would have been. Snuggled firmly against her side on the couch, forcing her yet again to watch Disney's Robin Hood. Even with the time that's passed she thinks she might still be able to recite it from heart.

Swan shifts beneath her fingers. She's starting to get restless in the silence, so Regina hums and says, "I used to have a son, you know," because for some reason that's the only thing her mind wants to focus on. Maybe it has something to do with imminent death making one contemplate regrets.

She feels free, saying the words out loud. The officer isn't in any condition to process or judge.

"Well, almost. Nothing was ever official before-" She falters, shakes her head. Regina swallows down Roland. Forces the memories back down deep where they belong. She clears her throat. "Maybe something happier, hmm? When I was very young, there was a ranch my father would bring me to on the weekends-"


	3. Chapter 3

Felix thinks Pete looks rather pleased with his work, which is a comfort. His brother sits back on his heels and studies Felix's freshly bandaged wounds.

"It's done," he says.

They have the phone on speaker between them and the negotiator's voice is slightly garbled. "Good. That's good, for now. But remember, Peter, unless we can assess Felix ourselves we can't be sure-"

"Fuck off," Pete snaps. "We made our bargain. The bitch is yours." He waves Felix towards the bathroom.

The cop is still out of it when they open the door. Her chest is heaving and her face is all scrunched up tight and her leg looks gross. Like, really gross. Felix picks at the wrap on his forehead and almost brings himself to feel bad for her.

Almost.

The other one, the lady who lives here, her head snaps up and she presses herself against the wall as soon as they step inside. Her features are hard, cold, but Felix can tell she's scared. He'd feel even worse about that but he's never really trusted cat people. Besides, hers seems worse than average. The damn thing caught one look at them and sprinted for the stairs.

See, dogs knew when someone was hurting and they would love on you. Cats were selfish bastards.

"You got a phone call." Pete holds the phone out to the woman, but she makes no move to take it.

She stares, brow furrowed as though waiting for the reveal of some elaborate prank. Pete always said the upper class were too stupid to function. Felix had never seen his claims in action before.

"Take it," Pete says, and he shifts so the pistol in his other hand glints in the harsh light of the bathroom, "or see what happens when I'm annoyed."

The woman looks more irritated than frightened by the threat. She swallows thickly, as though choking back a retort, but she relents and accepts the offering.

"Hello?"

"Regina Mills?"

Her entire body seems to sag at the sound of her name. A great woosh of relief rushes out of her and she squeezes her eyes tight.

"Y-yes." She licks her lips. "Yes."

Despite the speaker, she clutches the phone close to her chest.

"Forgot the kit." Pete waves Felix out of the room.

Right. Felix returns to the living room where Pete had fixed him up. They had found the lady's first aid kit in the hall closet and had helped themselves, closely following the instructions of the suits for the first time in their lives.

He closes the box and returns to the bathroom, careful to keep low by the windows just like Pete had warned him. When he's returned, it's clear he's missed introductions.

"He's back," the woman - Regina, he supposes, and thinks hey, maybe Archie isn't so awful after all - says as he drops the kit by her side.

"They can hear everything?"

"Yes. You're on speaker."

Felix moves to join Pete where he's leaning against the wall, disinterest painted across his face.

"Okay. That's fine. That's good. Because we're all going to communicate with one another and if any of us has a problem with anything that's happening, we're going to discuss it and fix it together."

Peter snorts. Felix rolls his eyes.

And then they're all gonna hold hands and sing. Right.

"Okay, what I'm going to do now, is I'm going to pass you over to my friend Dr. Whale. And you're going to tell him everything you see, and everything that's happening, Regina. And he's going to tell you exactly what you need to do. Okay?"

Regina's eyes are wide as her gaze flickers over the officer's broken and battered body. "I-I don't- I don't know how to do..-" she breathes, voice thick, and gasps out, " _anything_ ," on the tail end of a sob.

The man on the phone is as even and measured as ever. "Whale is going to walk you through every step." He pauses, and then, "You can do this, Regina. Okay?"

She nods frantically until she seems to remember she can't be seen.

"O-okay."

 

-

 

The bastards hadn't even bothered to uncuff her. They just stood and watched as she struggled against her binding to give one-handed care to a dying woman.

Hopefully it doesn't mean anything, well, bad that she's more angry and vengeful as a captive than anything else. Stay calm and compliant, her brain keeps urging her, just as the doctor on the phone had. It's rational. She gets it.

Still, every other piece of her is screaming: Fuck these idiots, make them pay in the most painful way possible.

Which probably isn't healthy even if the fantasies it brings are infinitely more satisfying.

The only thing that's grounding her is Swan. Her charge. Her responsibility. Even with her incredibly limited knowledge, Regina knows things aren't looking good for the officer. She'd followed Whale's instructions to the letter, even with the hooligans breathing down her neck, but she didn't miss the uncertainty in the doctor's voice, even over the slight static of the phone.

He was worried, and so is she.

Swan shifts, coughs. Regina trails her now bloodstained fingers over the woman's furrowed brow. She's all Swan has. She's her only chance.

Good luck to her.

The boys had left the door open. Regina can hear them clearly, playing hardball as the officers outside negotiate their release. Everything's soft and calm through the phone, but Regina's quite certain they're well aware Swan's time is running out.

"Not long now," Regina whispers. "Everything will be just fine." She's always been a decent liar.

Swan doesn't seem to agree though. She's fidgeting. Restless. Resisting Regina's soothing words.

"Hush," Regina urges. "Relax."

Swan lets out something like a whimper, limbs trembling, and Regina's heart clenches tight in her chest.

"Something else," she murmurs, desperately raking her mind. "Something- something-" she falters, sighs.

She doesn't have any healing stories.

Regina's not- well she's not the happiest person. Not the softest. Not the warmest.

Not anymore.

Once though, she'd loved. Fiercely. Deeply.

Once upon a time, she had been happy, soft, warm.

And then it had all been ripped away.

"I told you before I had a son, almost. But- that wasn't true. He was-" Her cheeks heat, her eyes sting, the words catch in her throat. "He was mine." She lets her head fall back against the cold tile of the wall. "He was mine and I loved him so much."


	4. Chapter 4

"See, Peter, right now things aren't so bad." The more Archie talks, the more annoying his voice gets. "You boys aren't in so much trouble. People start dying though? That's when things get messy. That's when you might start looking at serious charges. There's still time to avoid all of that, Peter. The focus here is getting everyone out safe. All four of you."

"And the cat," Felix says. His head is starting to pound a little. Like his brain is too big for his skull and is pushing up against its sides.

Pete chuckles and brings the phone to his lips. "Don't forget the cat, Arch."

"Of course. We want everyone safe," the speaker phone crackles, "so no tricks, no traps, just one doctor to come in with the supplies and expertise to treat Deputy Swan. And, he can even look at Felix. Make sure your brother is safe. That's the most important thing right, Peter? Sounds like you did a great job with the supplies Regina had on hand but-"

"I'm not a fucking child," Pete snaps.

Felix jerks a bit at the venom in his voice. He immediately regrets it when his brain throbs.

"Felix is fine and we're not idiots. You're the powerless ones here. You're the ones with the time limit." He laughs then, cruel and merciless, "Don't forget, Archie, I'm not the one who needs the supplies. All I need is a single hostage, and I got two."

He cuts off the call, brow furrowed, eyes hard. After a few moments, his gaze lifts to meet Felix's.

"We'll make em' sweat a bit, give Boss some time to work something out. He'll call soon. I know it."

Felix starts to nod, but falters at the pain. Instead, he licks his dry lips and says, "Next time you talk to the dude, tell em I don't like the picture they're using of me on channel eight. My hair looks stupid."

Pete snickers and kicks Felix's sneaker with the toe of his boot. "Your hair always looks stupid, Fe."

 

-

 

"I had this little pink backpack. It had purple flowers all along the front."

Regina's features pull together in her concentration. She can just about reach the tub when she strains, and the washcloth that had been dangling from the towel rack above her is quick to soak through. When it's dripping, she bundles it tight in her fist, squeezes lightly a few times before bringing it to Swan's cracked lips.

"I snuck down to the pantry sometime after midnight. Filled it with just about every can I could find."

The boys had refused them any bit of food or drink. Not that Regina is feeling particularly hungry of course. But she figures the other woman can use some water--so long as Regina doesn't drown her--and it's the least she can do. It's something useful.

At least she hopes so.

"Beans. Soup. Pineapple. I filled it until the bag could hardly zip."

The cloth resting at the corner of Swan's lips, she squeezes again, even more gently this time. A thin, barely-there trickle of water runs into her mouth.

"And then I went right out a back window. Just marched on down the street."

Swan reflexively swallows. Regina shifts to wet the cloth again.

"No idea where I was going, of course. And it was, hmm, barely an hour before-"

She turns back to Swan and lets out a little gasp. The cloth falls to the floor with a wet splat.

The other woman is watching her. At last her eyes are open, and Regina finds herself under an intense, penetrating stare. Despite all odds--broken bones and open wounds and great wheezing breath--Swan's gaze is bright, focused. Studying intently as though the pain isn't registering at all.

"You-" Regina murmurs, feeling a little breathless in her surprise. She lifts a tentative hand, fingers reaching for their place on her uninjured arm. "Can you-"

"Hey, lady."

The door bursts open. Swan's eyes snap shut and Regina jerks away from her as the younger of their captors bungles gracelessly into the bathroom.

"Your cat, it's got a name, no?"

Heart thundering in her chest at the surprise, it's all Regina can do to keep from snapping at the imbecile and getting them both killed. "Does it really matter to you?" She fights to keep her voice even. "Call him whatever you want."

The young man frowns. God, he's barely more than a boy. A couple of years younger and she could very well have been his teacher.

"Me?" He actually looks a little intrigued by the idea. He's an idiot, sure, but better him than the other one. That one has a sharp gaze. She can see the wheels turning in his head. He's got a chip on his shoulder and a lot to prove and he's just itching to make a stupid decision.

Better an idiot with a concussion than an idiot with a gun.

"I want him to come to me, is all. I'm not all that big on cats but he's just sitting at the top of the stairs looking down at us. I think maybe he wants to be friends. Tell me how to call him."

Regina studies the boy, wonders if maybe this could be an opportunity in disguise. She swallows back her fury and forces a lighter tone. All that practice with parent teacher conferences is finally about to pay off.

"He's nervous. Strangers frighten him. His name is John though. You can try it. Little John."

He stares for a moment, then laughs. "Like the Disney movie?"

"My-" Regina falters, sighs, "he was my son's before-" She shakes her head. "He was a fan of the movie and he was the one to name him."

"Oh." The man shifts a little on his feet. Looks a bit uncomfortable, and it's ridiculous because he _does_ remember he's holding her hostage in her own home, right? "Well maybe I'll try it." He rubs at his neck. "Regina, right?"

Her heart leaps in her throat. This is it, what she's been waiting for. "Yes." She forces warmth into her gaze, kindness and compassion. "What's your name?"

He flushes under her attention, just as she'd hoped, an embarrassed grin on his lips. "Felix," he says, suddenly shy. "Fe is what most people call me."

Regina nods. "Felix," she repeats, low and smooth and he ducks his head as his cheeks flood with color. "You know, there're some treats in the cupboard over the fridge. That could work."

She tries her best not to snicker as he lets out an affirmative little squeak and stumbles out the door.

 

-

 

Felix kneels at the landing of the stairs, Friskies in hand. He rattles the little bag and holds one out towards the gray cat at the summit who peers down with equal parts curiosity and wariness. "Come on, Johnny," he coos. "Come on boy." He clicks his tongue. "I won't hurt ya, little guy."

See, a dog would have come by now. Dogs are good like that.

"Enough with the damn cat already," Pete shouts.

Little John bolts away at the sound and Felix lets out a frustrated huff. "Fuck you, Pete. I was so close."

"You hit your head harder than you think." Peter takes a bite of food from the bowl in his lap. It's some kind of fancy chicken dish that Felix had absolutely devoured in seconds. Pete's clearly savoring his share.

Regina has mad good leftovers in her fridge. Lots too. A shit-ton all sealed and stored and dated in her freezer. As though she's constantly making too-large meals without remembering she can't finish them on her own.

Whatever the reason, she's a damn good cook.

Hot too.

Felix shakes off the heat in his cheeks and crawls beneath the sight line of the windows over to his brother. Peter is huddled up in front of the television. He's sitting cross legged on the floor watching the news inform the public about the poor unfortunate urchins who had fallen into a life of crime because the big city had failed them.

It had taken awhile to find a reporter with a sympathetic angle, but once they did they refused to change the channel to anything else. Plus, this station is using pretty decent pictures of them both.

"Still nothing from the Boss?" He aims for slick and casual as he reaches out to steal a mushroom from Pete's plate.

Pete slaps his hand away before he can make off with anything substantial. "Obviously not," he snaps.

"How does he not know by now? We're all over the news. We were supposed to check in hours ago." An unpleasant thought strikes him. "You don't think he'd-"

"Shut up, Fe," Pete growls, dismissing the claim before it can even be voiced. In a way, Felix is grateful for it. "He's gonna call. He has to. He wouldn't just leave us."

Felix swallows, nods. "Right. Yeah. Duh."

"Why don't you just leave the thinking to me, all right? It's not your strength."

Asshole.

Felix gives his shoulder a shove and crawls back towards the stairs. "And you wonder why I'd rather hang out with the cat."

He shakes the Friskies and calls to Johnny and hopes for the best.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite her best efforts, Regina hasn't been able to get Swan to open her eyes again. She curses the boy--Felix--for his untimely interruption. Swan had been conscious, awake. Perhaps on the cusp of speaking before he'd blundered in and destroyed all hope of contact.

Regina feels so isolated. So utterly alone.

She wonders if Mother knows. They've contacted her family, surely. They must have. She's sure Mother had put on a great show. Perhaps she's even booked herself a ticket up to Maine. Zelena's much closer. Close enough to drive over, really. But they haven't spoken in months. Not since their obligatory courtesy Christmas call.

God, she's pathetic.

Who's waiting for Swan? Parents? A husband? A wife? Children? A dog?

Her eyes track over the other woman. Her lean frame. The obvious muscle beneath the uniform. Swan looks like the sort of person to have a dog. A German Shepherd, maybe. Something strong and fiercely protective.

She hopes Felix isn't terrorizing poor Little John too much.

"Check it out."

Regina jolts out of her thoughts. Jesus, she hadn't even registered the door opening.

Felix steps inside and sits beside her, a furry bundle in his arms. "He's not so bad once you get to know him."

Regina swallows down her disdain. "He's quite affectionate," she agrees and takes a chance, reaches out with her free hand to scratch behind the cat's ears.

To her luck, Felix doesn't jerk away or lash out. Little John squirms a bit in the man's grasp.

"Hey, come on now," Felix whines, but relents and lets the cat escape.

Little John slinks over to his owner and curls up on her legs.

"Don't take it personally," she says.

Felix chuckles a bit. "Mind of his own then, huh? And after all those treats we shared." He pauses at this, looking thoughtful. "Hey, you know that dish in your fridge? The green one with the chicken? What was that?"

Regina disguises the frustrated clench of her fists in the depths of Little John's fur. "Chicken Marsala."

"Oh," Felix returns. "Good shit. Don't have nothing like that back Home, that's for sure. Pete was nuts for the stuff, though I doubt he'll admit it. You could have your own restaurant, ya know?"

Regina lets her eyes flutter shut, breathes through her nose, counts to three. "Thank you," she manages to say without throwing up.

The boy has the audacity to flash her a wide grin. She manages to not look like she's absolutely seething.

It's something to be proud of, she thinks.

 

-

 

Archie calls three more times before Pete even picks up. Still no word from the Boss. Felix tries not to think about that too much. His head still hurts anyhow.

"We just want one doctor," Archie says. The dude is good, he doesn't sound half as desperate as Pete claims he is. "You'll be free to tail them the whole time, and you'll have complete access to their medical bag. Once you're certain there is nothing suspect inside, they will treat Deputy Swan to the best of their ability, look after Felix's wound, and then be on their way. That's all."

Peter snorts and raises the phone to his lips. "We've been over this. Your cop is worthless, as good as dead already. I only need one hostage. You should be worried about the other one. She still has a chance."

Felix raises from the floor beside his brother and wanders back towards the bathroom. They'd left the door open. Pete wants a clear view of the hostages just in case the cops get restless and try anything sneaky. That means she can hear them now, Regina.

The woman is just as he left her, one hand chained, the other gently stroking the cat now fast asleep on her lap.

He settles near her on the cold tile floor, ignores the shuddering, quivering mass that is the broken cop. "Don't worry, he's just playing hardball with them. We're not gonna hurt you." He winces as he remembers knocking her out from behind just a few hours earlier. "Well, not again."

The woman studies him for a time, gaze hard before it flickers to Swan's wheezing form.

"That was a mistake," he quickly reassures her. "Her fault, really. We were all set to make our getaway and the bitch freakin' jumped us. We woulda just shoved her outta the car but her partner was right on top of us and the only thing to do was get the hell out of there. Pete got her unconscious pretty easy after that, just a knock to the back of the head like, but she woke up halfway down the parkway. Went crazy on us, didn't she? Practically forced Pete right off the road. Right into the guard rail. So, you know," he shrugs, "her fault, right? We didn't even want her and she went and turned herself into a banged up hostage."

Regina shifts away from him, jaw tight. He heaves a sigh. She doesn't get it. Not yet. She doesn't understand.

"See, if it weren't for her, we wouldn't have even had to come here." He scoots closer. "We crashed and had to cut through the woods. Pete's idea to drag her along for bargaining in case the rest of them caught up. But I was hurt. Slow. We heard the sirens behind us and needed somewhere to hide." He stares at her, eyes wide and earnest, compelling her to grasp his meaning. "Your house was the first one we saw. Came out of the woods right into your backyard. We had no choice but to come in. So it really is all her fault, get it?" He puts a hand on the toe of the officer's boot, jostles it a little. "Huh? You see?"

"Don't." The word is sharp. Cutting. Regina's glare is murderous before she swallows, softens. "I- her leg is broken. Don't- don't make it worse."

Felix frowns, leans back to rest his weight on his hands. "Yeah, I guess." He grimaces. "Sorry."

Regina doesn't say anything, just keeps petting the cat while staring down at that damn bitch. Looking like she's concerned. Like she's making sure the cop isn't in any more pain because of him. He doesn't like that.

"My head hit the dashboard pretty hard when we crashed." Felix raises a hand, runs his fingers gently over Pete's makeshift bandage work. "Hurt like a mother."

For a moment, Regina appears less than sympathetic. And then, all at once, her features shift into something kind. Compassionate. It makes him feel a bit warm all over again.

Man did they luck out picking the house of the hot chick.

"Well, I'm glad Dr. Whale was able to tell your friend how to help you."

He preens a bit under her attention. "Brother, actually. Pete's older."

"Oh?" She tilts her head, looks genuinely interested.

He stifles a grin, doesn't want to look too eager. Too young. This here seems like a relatively classy lady. He has to play his cards right. "Not by much though. Besides, everyone says I'm more mature." He sniffs likes it's no big deal.

She smiles at him. It's just about the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"So, uh," his tongue feels like it's two sizes too big for his mouth, "what- what do you do?"

If she's surprised by the small talk, she doesn't show it. "Teach," Regina says. "At the high school. English."

Man, why are the gorgeous ones always wasting themselves on stupid shit? "Well," he shrugs, "better than math."

Regina laughs, low and smooth, and the sound instantly earns her back any and all points she had lost with her career choice.

"I've always hated math," she agrees, "horribly boring."

"And useless," Felix grouses, remembering his shitty high school days before he'd dropped out. "All of it is."

"Well obviously I can't agree with you on that one." Regina actually pouts a little when she says it, and it does things to Felix. To his stomach specifically.

He licks his lips and leans a bit closer, excitement bubbling in his gut. "I-"

"Shut up."

Felix snaps his head up to find Pete hovering over them, glaring down.

"You're such an idiot."

Felix pushes to his feet, narrows his eyes. He's getting sick of his brother using him as a punching bag the more and more anxious he gets at the Boss' silence. "Fuck off."

"She's playing you," Pete says through a cold laugh. He crosses his arms, eyebrows raised. "She's trying to humanize herself so you see her as a person rather than a hostage. So you'll want to protect her in the end. Do you listen to the Boss at all? It's the same reason that fucking therapist keeps calling us all by first name every goddamn sentence." He shakes his head. "It's all mind games."

Felix's gaze darts to Regina, and she tries to mask it, but he catches her. The split second before she can control her real feelings. Before the disgust and hatred can be hidden.

"And you're falling for it like a goddamn kid with his first boner," Pete seethes.

Felix stares at Regina in wide eyed horror, embarrassment flooding his cheeks. And she must realize there's no hope in continuing the game any longer because her shoulders stiffen and a sickly sweet smile flits across her lips as her eyes remain glued to Peter with intense malice.

"Smart boy," she drawls, and her voice is so wildly different than anything she's used in front of Felix before.

Pete rolls his eyes and yanks Felix from the bathroom by the back of his collar.

He slams the door shut.


	6. Chapter 6

The bathroom door is closed, but Regina can hear their muffled conversations through the wood if she really strains. They're tired, she'd heard. Getting some rest in shifts. She doesn't know who is taking the first, but it doesn't matter. Peter is unwilling to check on them, they're beneath his concern beyond how their presence protects him, and Felix doesn't want anything to do with her. Not anymore.

She thinks she's broken the poor boy's heart. His pride at the very least.

Little John is curled up in the sink and Swan is still all but dead to the world. The negotiator doesn't seem to be making any progress and the mysterious 'Boss' evidently refuses to call. Nothing is likely about to change for the better any time soon.

All in all, Regina feels just desperate enough to do something stupid. Incredibly stupid.

She's got her nail scissors in her free hand and is doing her best to force open the lock on her cuff. It's not going too well. At least she doesn't think so. She has no experience with this sort of thing so she's just blindly tugging and pushing and twisting, hoping for anything to work.

Swan coughs near her feet.

"You're all right," Regina soothes absently as she struggles. Her wrist burns where the metal rubs it raw. She grits her teeth. "It'd be really great if you popped on up right about now though."

Swan just coughs again, almost as if to spite her.

"You would be the type to talk back. How about-" Regina jolts as she turns her head, finds the other woman staring at her once more. Eyes piercing as they study her. "You're," she breathes, abandoning what is likely a lost cause anyhow. "Can you hear me? Do you understand?"

Ragged breathing. Heaving chest. Features twisted in pain.

No recognition.

Regina's heart drops as she wonders if Swan is even aware her eyes are open at all.

She shakes off the disappointment and pushes to her knees. Forces herself to carry on. Nobody is coming to save her. She can't sit back and rely on that. She has to fight. She has to save herself.

Her gaze drops back to Swan. Struggling. Vulnerable. Completely helpless.

Regina swallows her doubts and pushes forward. They're alone.

They're alone and she has to save them both.

 

-

 

Felix can't even look at Pete, so he's beyond grateful when his brother takes the first sleeping shift. It means he doesn't have to feel like a complete tool while Pete makes snide comments about the bitch in the bathroom.

He's got the gun now that Pete's asleep. He's in charge for the hour or so until his brother wakes up. And he's got half a mind to go in there and teach her some manners. Show her that maybe she should learn some respect for her betters. Show her she can't just whore her way out of her problems and fuck with people's heads. It's not right.

You'd think a teacher'd be better than that, really.

Felix sniffs. Fiddles with the safety. Gun raised at a random point on the wall, he mouths a 'bang' and fakes the recoil like he's seen in the movies. The Boss was just starting to trust him so he's never really been on any jobs yet. Never had a reason to fire a gun before. He wonders what it feels like.

Pete knows. He's shot them plenty. Twice in the general direction of actual people.

What does that feel like? Different than the BBs he used to shoot at cans in the woods, surely. Stronger. Faster.

Deadly.

Pete's cell rings.

His brother is up in a flash. He scrambles off Regina's couch and onto the floor where his jacket lays in a heap next to Felix. Fingers trembling, Pete fishes his phone out of a pocket and answers.

"Boss?" His voice is tight, shaky.

Felix can't make out the other end of the call, and his head is pounding too much to strain himself, so he leans it back against the wall he's slumped against, closes his eyes, and waits to hear Boss' master plan.

They're foolproof, or so Felix has heard. Boss always comes through.

No exceptions.

 

-

 

Regina digs her free hand through her hair, tugs at the roots. She's so completely, unbelievably worthless.

"I'm sorry," she breathes, because Swan's just laying there still--wheezing, bleeding, dying--staring. "I don't know what to do."

It's likely possible to force the cuff open with a hard enough blow but she doesn't dare risk the sound. The boys can come running in at any second. According to them Swan is expendable and Regina has offended them both. She doesn't dare call their attention. They won't be forgiving.

She looks anywhere but Swan's hard gaze. For so long she'd yearned for her eyes to open and now she'd do anything to have them close.

 

-

 

It's about a good five solid minutes after the call has ended that Pete finally speaks.

A good five solid minutes after he chucks his phone across the room with a snarl. It sails through the air, crashes against the hard brick hearth of Regina's fireplace, and shatters into useless pieces. And then Pete just loses it. Forgets the windows as he dashes about the room. Wearing a furious path into the floor as he snaps and snarls and throws a horrible tantrum.

The pictures resting over the fireplace are sent flying. Regina's glass coffee table is overturned - shattered. Couch cushions are launched about. The sofa itself flipped onto its back. There's an expensive looking vase in the corner, smashed to shards.

_ "Fuck!" _

And as Pete's face gets redder, his snarls louder, his movement more erratic, all Felix can do is squeeze his eyes tight and clench his fists and think that maybe Boss doesn't always come through after all.

Maybe this is where it all ends.

 

-

 

Regina shrinks away from the violent sounds seeping through the door. Little John leaps out of the sink and scurries to the bathtub, fleeing behind the safety of the shower curtain. A part of Regina wishes she could join him. As if it would help.

She draws back against the cool tile of the wall, curls her fingers into a tight fist, and resigns herself to waiting.

 

-

 

Felix blinks up at his brother as though he's gone mad.

No.

He definitely has gone mad. Pete's beyond mad. He's a fucking lunatic.

"We're not smart enough, Pete," he pleads. It feels like his left eye is throbbing now, jumping against the inside of its socket over and over and over. "We can't fool the likes of them all on our own."

"I'm not an idiot like you," Pete's snarls back. And it's ugly and Felix shrinks away because it's actually pretty fucking hurtful.

There's no light teasing. No affection behind the edges of the words. It's sharp and biting and Pete runs his hands through his hair until it's standing on end and he looks a bit deranged, really, as he storms over to Regina's landline.

In seconds, Archie responds.

"We want out," he shouts into the receiver, teeth flashing. "You'll get them. Get em both. But we get out. We get a car. Full tank of gas. We'll leave your cop, we take the other one. Take her as far as we feel necessary until we're sure you pigs haven't followed. Then we'll dump her, safe and sound."

Felix can't make out Archie's voice from where he sits, huddled against the wall. He can only see Pete. His anger, his frustration. His hatred growing at whatever calm, condescending words the negotiator coos through the phone.

"Because I said so, fucking prick," Pete growls. "You keep forgetting only one of us has a time limit, doc. Your cop doesn't look so great. I'm thinking she's not supposed to be quite so blue now is she?"

More silence. Pete's got this sick little twisted smile on his face while he listens. It grows, but it's an ugly, demented thing. Felix swallows and turns away. He's never seen Pete like this before. Doesn't want to.

"That sounds like your problem, not mine. You know what I want. You know how to get it. The rest is your call. She lives or she dies, doc, that's all on you." He chuckles, low and menacing. "You know, I feel kind of bad, looking at her. She can't breathe quite right. And her leg- well, it looks painful. I don't think I could bear to watch her suffer for longer than, say, an hour before I'd want to help. You know, put her out of her misery. Sometimes that's what's for the best, after all. No reason to let her suffer."

Felix swallows down the bile that rises in his throat. Pete's bluffing. He knows he is. There's no way he'd just up and shoot someone who can't even open their eyes. That's not how they run. It's never been how they ran. Before the Boss had taken them in, they'd had a pact. Only steal what's necessary. Only take what they need. Only fight when there's no other way.

And yeah, that's changed some. The Boss has expectations. And he puts a lot on Pete. Has been sending him off on jobs without Felix for a long time now. Teaching him the ropes. How to work the scene. Who to sweet talk. How to shoot.

But not this. Never this.

"Like I said," Pete murmurs, "It's all on you now, doc."

He turns off the phone, tosses it onto the floor with a clatter. It falls on the shattered glass now scattered about.

"One hour, Fe," Pete says. The glass crunches beneath his heavy boots as he passes over it towards the kitchen.

Felix licks his lips. "And then what?" he dares.

Pete doesn't seem particularly bothered. He's got the fridge open, Felix can see him through the open archway. He's rooting around inside. "Told em, didn't I?"

"Y-yeah," Felix forces out, swallowing thickly. "Yeah, I guess you did."

 


	7. Chapter 7

One hour.

Regina hears it through the door. Loud. Unashamed. She doesn't know the whole story. Hadn't heard the details. Doesn't know the conditions. All she knows is that in one hour, something is going to happen. Something bad, she's sure. Something terrible.

Swan shifts along the floor, features screwed up in a wince as she releases a low groan.

Regina hovers over her, anxious at the sounds of distress. "What do you need? What can I do?"

Her eyes remain open when she settles, but Swan doesn't respond. She just keeps her gaze focused on Regina, intently taking everything in. From the tub, Little John lets out a pitiful mew. He wants out of the bathroom. He's getting restless about it, but Regina had scared him off when he'd attempted to claw at the door. The last thing she needs is the cat drawing attention to them.

One hour.

Regina sags against the wall. She squeezes her eyes tight. Who will they kill first?

Swan is probably more important to the police than a random schoolteacher. Especially if the officers outside are personal acquaintances. On top of that, Regina had gone and pissed the boys off. Still, Swan isn't in great shape. She's more of a liability than Regina. If they want a hostage, they'll likely choose to keep the healthier option around.

It doesn't matter either way at this point. Regina's inclined to believe that this won't end well for either of them, no matter who is chosen first. She'll do what she can to survive and watch over the fallen woman beside her, but she has no delusions about how this will play out.

Will Mother cry?

She snorts at herself. Mother hadn't cried when her own husband had passed. Hadn't bothered to even pretend. If anything, she'll be embarrassed by the fuss Regina caused on the way out.

Zelena may. They haven't been close since they were just small girls, but she likes to think something lingers there between them. Buried deep beneath years of insecurity and resentment, but alive and well.

Regina draws her knees up to her chest, wraps her free arm around her legs. "Do you have anyone who will miss you?"

Swan stares at her. Offers nothing but some watery breathing and a long, slow blink.

"I'll take that as a yes," Regina says with a strained smile. She hums. "I assume most people do."

Swan simply blinks again and Regina sighs.

One hour.

 

-

 

Pete stands by the side of the window, peering out from behind the curtains with a hard gaze. "They're just flitting about. Morons," he spits.

Felix keeps his distance. He doesn't like the way Pete refuses to drop the gun. The way his hand stays clenched around it, a finger resting near the trigger. He's jumpy in a way Felix has never seen him. Twitchy.

"I told them- I was clear. They know what I want."

"Takes time I bet, Pete," Felix dares to murmur.

Peter scowls. "Maybe they don't mean as much to them as we thought. They have to save the cop, right? They gotta. They should-" He falters. Features twisting into something ugly.

"It's barely been a half hour," Felix tries. He rubs at the bandage on his forehead. It's itchy now. Sticky. He thinks maybe the doctor on the phone had said when they should reapply the wraps but he can't quite bring himself to remember.

"I bet it's cause they think we're kids," Pete whispers, ignoring Felix completely. "Yeah." He nods, eyes widening. "They think we're playing. We're stupid. We're not serious. They can jerk us around cause we won't follow through."

At the sudden, darker, shift in atmosphere, Felix shakily pulls himself to his feet. "I-" he stammers, but his feeble words are lost to his brother's fury.

"Bullshit," he shouts, and slams his foot into the plant by the window. The pot resists him and he growls, lifts the whole thing up and chucks it at the fireplace. It shatters, like everything else he's touched, splintered fragments raining down upon the hearth.

"Pete-" Felix pleads.

"We'll show them," he yells, cheeks red. "We'll fucking show em, won't we?" And he stampedes towards the bathroom.

All Felix can do is stumble helplessly in his wake. "Pe-"

The door slams against the wall as it opens with a resounding thwack. Pete stomps inside and then there's a loud, pained yowl. Felix comes up behind him just in time to see Little John crying out as his tail is crushed beneath Pete's boot before making a break for the stairs and the safety of the second floor.

By the time Felix makes it to the doorway Pete's already trying to heave the cop up, gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. The woman is slumped in his arms, incapable of fully supporting herself, but for the first time since they'd crashed Felix notices her eyes are open and she's got an ugly scowl on her lips. She thrashes in his hold, clawing at the arms around her waist and jerking about.

Pete's struggling with his grip, cursing as she twists and writhes.

"Stop it," Regina shouts, watching in wide eyed horror as the cop's wounds are opened, blood staining the once pristine bathroom. She's straining against her binding, just unable to reach, unable to do anything but helplessly watch the violent struggle. "Stop, please."

"I can't-" Pete gasps as the cop throws her weight against him, "I-" and then a shallow, _oomphf_ , escapes him as he takes a flailing elbow to the ribs. "Fuck," he gasps in pain and immediately releases his hold.

The cop crumples into a heap. Felix winces at the sickening slap of soft flesh on cold, hard tile. She twists on the ground. Struggling to right herself, he knows. Desperate even in her delirium to fight back. To defend herself.

Pete sends a swift kick to her side. "Bitch," he shouts and a strangled cry escapes her as she curls up in the fetal position, good arm wrapped tight around her stomach while the broken one lays stretched out beneath her, curled at an unnatural angle.

"Stop it," Regina pleads again and Pete turns on her. Eyes deep and dark like Felix has never seen.

He grabs for her arm and collects her easily as the binding doesn't afford her any room to evade. "I guess you'll have to do." As soon as he's got a firm grip he pulls her to her feet and towards the door and she releases a pained yelp as the cuff digs into her arm, keeping her tethered to the wall.

And though he'd felt differently just a few hours before, Felix thinks he doesn't like seeing her taught a lesson after all. Not one like this.

"Oh for the love of-" Pete growls and then shoves her against the wall, forcing her struggling form there with his body while he fishes the keys to the cuff out of his pocket. She puts her hands on the wall, does her best to force them both away but he slams forward. Gives her a good hard blow to stun her into a few seconds submission.

It's long enough to free her, and as soon as she is, he grips her wrist in a tight fist. Twists her arm around her back, bends it until she's whimpering at the pain. Then he reaches back. Pulls the gun from his waistband and digs the barrel into her side. Felix sees the hitch of her breath in the way her chest jerks, watches her eyes widen.

Pete holds her close to him. Presses his mouth right up next to her ear and whispers, "Start walking," before giving her a little shove towards Felix.

Dazed, Felix steps aside to let his brother pass. Unable to even look upon her face as Regina stumbles by him into the hall. Pete's leading her towards the front door he knows. Is gonna do something stupid. Real stupid. Something that's gonna get them all killed and Felix doesn't know how to stop it.

"Pete-" he tries and at last, his brother looks upon him.

His eyes are too dark and his smile is too wide and he actually laughs a little. "Just gonna show em we're serious. Just gonna teach em to listen. Don't be such a pussy."

Felix swallows and nods, because what else is he supposed to do?

 


End file.
